


6am Level of Importance

by DontForgetToPanic



Series: Pillow Talk [1]
Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Bantz with a Z, But like only a little bit, Dirty Talk, Domestic, Fluff, Humor, I don't even know what quality content means anymore, M/M, because Dan is a troll, literally just one long conversation filled with extremely lame jokes, literally no plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-04
Updated: 2017-03-04
Packaged: 2018-09-28 04:41:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10072220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DontForgetToPanic/pseuds/DontForgetToPanic
Summary: Milton Accounting Firm coming in clutch, am I right people?AKA: Pillow talk ain't gotta be sexy.





	

He wakes him up at 6:25am, which makes Phil wonder when his partner got amnesia because everyone ( _everyone_ ) knows not to wake him before eight.

And god, he just won’t shut up.

“Phil, darling, love of my life…are you awake?”

Phil rolls onto his stomach and buries his head in his pillow.

“Buttercup? Smelly blossom? My bubbly slice of Boston Cream Pie?”

Dan’s whispering, but that doesn’t mean much seeing how he’s the loudest whisperer known to man. If he keeps this up Phil can’t be held responsible for his actions.

“Fruit-fly? Sunshine?” Dan trails off and oh shit, he’s pulling out the Smokey Robinson card. Phil swears, if Dan starts singing—

“You’re my sunshine, on a cloudy day,” Dan faux-whisper sings, “when it’s cold outside, you are the month of ma—ay.”

Phil uses the duvet to cover his ears. 

“I’d guess you’d say, what could make me feel this way?”

Dan pauses. Phil swears, if he fucking—

“MY GIRL,” Dan ~~screams~~ sings, “MY GIRL, talkin’ about my…”

Phil turns his head and cracks one eye open.

“Not your girl,” he mumbles. Dan’s sitting up, back leaning against the headboard and damn it’s hard for Phil to stay mad when Dan’s smiling that smile he only has in the mornings, relaxed and open and soft.

“Oh good, you’re awake,” Dan says, acting all cool and shit, as if Phil woke up on his own volition.

“What,” Phil groans, his voice cracking from sleep, “could possibly be a 6 AM level of importance?”

“Guess who I just got off the phone with?” Dan non-answers, and Phil absolutely does [b]not[/b] find Dan’s giddiness adorable.

“My darling wife Janice who loves me enough to _not_ wake me up at the butt-crack of dawn.”

“Nope,” Dan says, adding a little popping sound for the “p.”

“My lawyer for when we separate due to the domestic unrest you just created?”

“Colder…” Dan teases, leaning in closer with his fingers held suspiciously in the air. Phil sighs; it’s too early for this shit.

His ticklishness is his downfall—the neighbors probably think they’re into some kinky BDSM shit from the way Phil scream-laughs every time Dan does this.

“I hate you! You’re the worst partner ever,” Phil gasps between his laughs/wheezes.

“Naw, I think you love me you sap,” Dan singsongs. Dan’s in an awkward position though, his lower half still sitting and his upper half leaning over Phil, so of course Phil takes the opportunity to grab Dan’s bare waist and flip them over.

“Oh no, what happened?” Phil feigns ignorance to match Dan’s pout, their faces only centimeters apart.

“Off, you lump,” Dan whines. He pushes at Phil’s shoulders, which of course causes Phil to fall so his whole body’s laying on Dan like deadweight.

“I think I’m malfunctioning,” Phil says, “my lack of sleep’s making me weak, I don’t think I can get up!” He starts wiggling around as if struggling to move his limbs; Dan’s unamused.

“I need to find a way to fix this!” Phil shouts, “Gasp, wait, I have an idea! I think—”

“Did you just say the word ‘gasp’ out loud?” Dan interrupts, scandalized.

“Yes, now shush. As I was _saying_ , I think that only **hashtag** Love’s **hashtag** True **hashtag** Kiss—”

“for fuck sake, ‘hashtag’? Really Phil—”

“—can break my curse!”

Dan scoffs at the same time Phil lifts his head, kissing Dan the way morning kisses are supposed to be; soft and slow and quiet and warm.

It lasts roughly 52 seconds.

“Gross, you’ve got morning breath,” Dan whines, pulling away, “brush your teeth you heathen.”

“I’m properly offended,” Phil says, and before Dan can reply he lets out a breath right next to Dan’s nose. Phil chooses to ignore Dan’s glare and focus on the disgusting fondness radiating from his eyes.

“Romance is dead. Romance is dead and you killed it.”  

“Yup,” Phil grins, “but you’re still stuck with me.”

Phil does end up brushing his teeth, but only because he had to go pee and was in the bathroom anyway, definitely not because Dan told him to.

It’s still sinfully early in the morning so he crawls back into bed. Dan’s sitting up again, phone in hand, so Phil lays his head on Dan’s lap and pulls at his hand until Dan’s fingers are laced in his hair; Phil doesn’t believe in subtleness.

“So who willingly talked to you at six in the morning?” Phil asks, eyes falling shut as Dan plays with his hair.

“Our accountant,” Dan answers, chipper as if fucking John Milton the Tax Accountant was the best person alive.

“Why are you talking to our accountant…before business hours even start?”

“Because we’re having an affair,” Dan answers, pulling at a rather stubborn knot in Phil’s hair. Phil hisses.

“Makes sense. Taxes _are_  aphrodisiacs. Any other reason?” 

Dan rolls his eyes.

“Because I’m the most put-together adult to ever adult and he wanted to ask my opinion about super important tax-y things. Come on Philly-pie, use your head.”

Phil looks unamused.

“Annnnnd,” Dan continues, “we need to go meet with him today about something.”

“Why,” Phil groans, eyes glaring at the ceiling as if it held all the answers.

“No idea, wasn’t paying attention. Taxes are your job, remember? I pay bills you do taxes,” Dan mumbles, “I’m only capable to do so much adulating at a time.”

Phil releases a whine—quickly followed by a surprise sneeze straight onto Dan’s knee. He hopes Dan didn’t notice.   

Dan noticed.

“Sometimes,” Dan says, still staring at his phone, “I get nostalgic for the days you’d try not to be gross around me.”

“I think our openness with each other is romantic,” Phil says.

“We lost all shreds of romance the second we started leaving the door open while taking a shit.”

Phil twists his neck to look over at Dan.

“Are you saying you want me to be more romantic?” Phil asks, “You want to share a soda-pop at the diner? Hold hands while playing mini-golf?”

“Shut up.”

“I know,” Phil’s giggling now, “you want me to win you a stuffed animal at the carnival.”

“Like you could win a carnival game,” Dan replies. Before Dan can add anything else Phil sits up and wraps one arm around Dan’s neck. For the second time this morning they’re kissing smiles from each other’s lips.

Their kiss moves towards the far side of calm, but when Phil’s hand starts to pull at the elastic of Dan’s boxers Dan turns his head to the side so Phil’s lips press against his cheek.

“Nope,” Dan says, “my muscles forbid us from going again, I need a 24-hour reprieve from last night.” Dan catches Phil’s hand trying to sneak under his boxers; Phil drags his lips down Dan’s chin while he’s distracted.

“You’re in your twenties,” Phil says (whines), “how does it feel to be out-stamina-ed by a 30-year-old?.”

“I am a weak snowflake who needs his rest,” Dan answered, indignant, while totally _not_  gasping from Phil’s mouth pressed against his neck.

Phil pouts as he flops down on the bed, head on his pillow. He pulls Dan’s hand back to rest on his head; if sex is off the table he’ll be happy with Dan playing with his hair some more. Dan laughs again, a laugh way too loud to belong in the morning, and he rolls on his side, propped up on his elbow and resting his head in his free hand.

 “If you’re good,” Dan whispers against Phil’s ear, “I might wake you up with a blow-job tomorrow.”

Phil’s more than content with that idea.

“I’m not sure,” Phil teases, “is that the best you’ve got?” Dan releases a quiet laugh against Phil’s cheek.

“You want me to ride you, is that it?” Dan asks, and okay, Phil would be quite happy with that as well.

“I see,” Dan continues, “you want to watch me fuck myself on your cock. You’ll be on your back still half asleep while I move above you, drag it out; fuck Phil, you’ll be begging to come.”

Dan smiles against the shell of his ear and for fuck’s sake is Dan trying to kill him?

“I’m trying to suppress an erection and you’re being the opposite of helpful,” Phil says, breathless, much to Dan’s amusement.

“Fuck, and you know what’s really hot? God, I’m getting hard just imagining it,” Dan whispers, lips brushing Phil’s skin, sending shivers down his spine. The way Phil eyes widen screams “tell me.”

“We can apparently get a tax write off for the travel expenses from when we visited your family in January; Milton Accounting Firm coming in clutch, am I right?” Dan’s outright laughing now while Phil’s face falls flat in disbelief.

Taxes. Seventh best way to kill a boner.

“I hate you,” Phil deadpans.

“Love you too.” Dan leans over to give Phil a small peck on the lips before springing up out of bed to use the restroom.

Phil pulls the covers back up to his chin and closes his eyes. Just a couple more minutes of sleep, then he’ll totally get up. Totally.

**Author's Note:**

> I needed to get back into the writing groove so I decided to free-write. This is the result. I don't even know.  
> Follow me on Tumblr if you want <https://dontforgettopanic.tumblr.com/>


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